


Nice Things

by reserve



Category: Actor RPF
Genre: M/M, The Least Gay Blow Job Ever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-09
Updated: 2017-08-09
Packaged: 2018-12-13 07:29:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11755005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reserve/pseuds/reserve
Summary: The kissing just keeps happening.





	Nice Things

**Author's Note:**

  * For [robokittens](https://archiveofourown.org/users/robokittens/gifts).



> idk you guys i'm just having a problem over here. many thanks to [robokittens](http://archiveofourown.org/users/robokittens/) for all the good lines but also, fuck you for encouraging this.

The first time, they kiss on stage.

It's improv after all and they both go all in. Thomas is actually kind of proud afterward, because the entire audience starts whooping and cheering and, yes, that feels good, and no, he doesn’t make a habit of kissing men in public. Or at all.

The second time, while Thomas definitely isn't thinking about the kiss, he’s in the bathroom after the last comedian goes on, and there's a knock at the door.

It's Zach. Because of course it is, and also, everyone usually goes out for a drink after these things and even though Zach nurses one (1) pint of cider the whole time, he comes along too.

“Oh, hey man,” Thomas says, absolutely not looking at Zach’s mouth. “Good show.”

“Thanks, you too,” Zach says.

And then basically without fully understanding the physics of it, Zach is in the bathroom with him, and one second they’re having a weirdly intense staring contest and the next Thomas is up on the bathroom sink (seriously??), his legs wrapped around Zach’s waist ( _seriously_??) and they’re definitely kissing again, except one of Zach’s hands is leaving a Titanic-style hand-print on the mirror behind him and he’s pretty sure they both have boners, but really who can tell with these things.

Anyway, that’s the second time.

Twice would be bad enough but it keeps happening. Which is frankly beyond Thomas for a number of different reasons. It doesn’t get much beyond kissing: usually frantic, shockingly not awkward, and perhaps worst of all, no one comes. It’s very high school, Thomas thinks, or would be if anyone had been making out with him in high school, which they hadn’t been, not even at cast parties when everyone was making out, but that’s neither here nor there.

In an exceedingly strange way, he’s grateful. It’s grossly satisfying. Getting someone, even a sort-of friend who is also a boy, to like-him like-him like that. And although he suspects that Zach is smarter than him, and also funnier than him, it doesn’t really matter when he’s four g&ts in, and completely sloppy, and Zach is completely sober and still shoving his tongue down Thomas’ thoat.

 _He shoved me up against a wall and he was dead sober_ , Thomas thinks. _He knew it was me. He was entirely aware_. It makes him feel funny.

And there’s no denying that Zach is weird. All of his energy is uncomfortable and he meets every single instance of Thomas overcompensating with concern instead of mockery and then he fucking kisses him to death.

The main problem is that it keeps happening.

And Thomas thinks, _this is fucking stupid and also I'm not gay and also what the fuck why do I want this so badly?_

And he tries to tell himself that the next time they do a show together it's gonna be totally chill afterward. They'll get a beer with everyone else. He'll go back to his own place and not super turned on and frustrated this time.

It's no big deal.

Except the problem. Is that it just keeps happening.

The fourth or maybe fifth time, they're at a fucking nasty ass LES dive bar at one of those long tables and everything smells like beer and fuck, Thomas knows what the bathrooms are like at this place, but Zach catches his eye from six people away and suddenly he's making excuses. He's getting up. He's heading towards the back where the half broken pool table is and he's wishing he was at least high because one drink isn't going to cut it.

But motherfucker. He would really like to do this once, just once, where he gets to surprise Zach with the whole hands everywhere situation and the lifting up and dropping on a surface deal.

Like it's so unfair? Right? That every time he's the one getting picked up and kissed?

Actually no, he amends, literally being being kissed and shoved up onto the pool table. No, it's amazing. And Jesus, everyone is probably going to walk back here and decide they want to play pool. And he doesn't care? He doesn't care. They're actors, ok? This is normal. His leg, basically half up in the air so Zach can get closer--closer, fuck--is normal. And the sounds he's--oh god--he's making, are normal.

It's not his fault he can't fucking breathe around someone else's tongue.

No one said “please don't stop.” Definitely not Thomas Middleditch. Nope. That was some other sad fucker currently getting pressed back onto a disgusting pool table. And no one said, “please let me fuck you” Not him. Nope. He only says that to girls. Hot girls. Fuck.

Zach is not a hot girl.

But.

He's so pretty. Why does he have to be so pretty? And weirdly aggressive. And if Thomas were honest he'd have to admit that the girls are usually aggressive too. And like, if Zach were just a little shorter (ok a foot shorter) he's sure he'd have the upper hand.

"All you have to do is ask," Zach tells him. Nonchalant, mind-reading creep.

"Ask what?" Thomas, smoothing his hair down. Cool, so cool.

"You know what. You're a fucking asshole."

"Jesus dude, you were just. You keep kissing me."

"Alright, so I'll stop." Zach, pulling away, leaving him half on a pool table like a fucking asshole.

"If this is a pissing contest, I'll win," Thomas shouts (literally shouts, sorry mom) after him.

Zach just rolls his eyes. Flips him the bird. And he’s still one of the nicest guys Thomas knows, which says a lot about comedy.

This turn of events leads him to do the most reasonable thing he can think of, which is basically a scorched earth campaign. Like, if Zach were a castle he’d essentially be preparing to storm his walls. He starts talking about it in casual company. Out with a group, people they consider friends. People Zach knows from NYU.

“Has Zach told you I'm gonna fuck him?” he says. And, “it's true. He's been waiting. He told me.”

“No joke. I’m gonna literally put my dick in his ass.”

“Yep. Fucking. That's right. A thing I do.”

“Oh my god,” someone says. One of the NYU friends. “What the fuck, dude?”

Zach just shrugs. He doesn't play along, but he doesn't deny it either. Plays like it's nothing. Like, there goes Thomas saying weird shit again for laughs.

The next time they're alone, on the subway no less, Zach says with deadpan innocence, "so when _does_ your dick go in my ass?"

Thomas almost spits out his soda.

"You said it would. And it's been kind of hard on me. Being ready whenever I might run into you."

"Ready?" Thomas frowns. "Like, ready-ready??"

He doesn't mean to make the finger going through his thumb and forefinger motion but his brain just shorted out. He is literally imagining Zach fingering himself before they see each other every time. And that is too much. Way too much.

Zach smiles enigmatically and shrugs.

 _Fuck_ , Thomas thinks. Fuck fuck fuck.

Then they’re at another party together, maybe two weeks later, and because improv is the most incestuous business ever he cannot seem to get wasted without Zach Woods being somewhere nearby. It’s a house party in Bushwick. Some girl Zach graduated with. And all Thomas can think is, wow this is lame, and wow NYU sucks.

There’s a yard, at least. It's all grown over and he’s considering trying to bum a cigarette off of someone (again, sorry mom) but when he’s about to head inside to find one, Zach is there, directly behind him like a surprisingly stealthy Frankenstein's monster.

They don’t even exchange witty banter. Zach just--as is apparently his way--manhandles him further into the overgrown yard until they’re hidden behind a few gnarly bushes, and then they're making out against the ivy-covered back fence, and there’s a branch digging into Thomas’ shoulder. He’s gunning for it this time, mostly sober for once too, although he did do a single bump before coming out here for air and heh, that just gave him the confidence boost he sorely needed. He manages to get a hand down Zach's pants to see what's _really_ going on.

And. Nothing. Totally dry. Why did he even--

He makes this frustrated little baby sound and Zach pushes him off and _laughs_ at him.

"You just." He stamps. Petulant. "What the fuck?"

Zach squints. "I what?"

"You kept saying. You said you were ready? What the fuck."

"Oh my goodness, Thomas. Did you think, wait." He squints some more. “Are you high?”

"No. Yes. Fuck this."

Zach full on laughs at him again. "C’mon, it was just a joke."

“ _I_.” Thomas points at himself. “I wasn’t joking. And the _kissing_ didn’t seem like joking either.”

“Alright, prove it.” Zach crosses his arms over his chest and it sucks that he can basically look down his nose at Thomas. He’s so fucking tall. And he’s so blase and confident and fucking strange that Thomas just says, “fine,” and gets to his knees with a raised eyebrow and what he hopes is a very confident smirk.

He’s undoing Zach’s jeans, and tugging them down his thighs when the reality of the situation hits him. It’s probably the grass currently enroute to staining his knees.

“Listen.” He reaches for the waistline of Zach’s boxers. “I’m not gay. And this is the least gay blowjob you’ll ever get from a dude. Just to be clear.” Zach is--okay, yes, he’s hard. Good. That makes this easier. Thomas has gotten a blowjob before, he knows how to do this.

Zach touches his shoulder before he can actually put his mouth anywhere.

“As much as I’ve enjoyed exploiting your self-effacing internalized homophobia, I think you should know that this? Is pretty queer. And.” He smiles a little sadly. “I hope you’ll be okay with that someday, because no one should go through life without knowing themselves wholly.”

“What the fuck.”

Zach’s hand moves to his hair. “Please proceed with the least gay blowjob ever.”

Thomas genuinely considers getting up and fucking off. Like, really? Self-effacing homophobic smart kid words. _What the fuck_. He’s about to say something really cutting, and probably too mean, when Zach uses the hand in his hair to push him towards his dick.

The next thing he thinks is that he would probably be a lot better at this if Zach could control himself, could maybe keep from tangling his fingers in Thomas’ hair and practically choking him on his dick. But, he thinks, gagging slightly, at least he can’t say anything with a dick in his mouth, because if he were talking he wouldn't be able to take any of it back or contain himself.

“When I kissed you, in that bathroom,” Zach pants. “I didn’t think we’d get--here. Mostly--fuck, why are you so bad at this--I wanted to freak you out. You’re so twitchy.”

 _God, he sounds fond_ , Thomas thinks. Which makes him want to do better. Whenever someone likes him he wants to do better.

“I don’t have to finish,” Zach adds. “You can just stop, and get up here, and let me kiss you some more.”

Thomas leans back. There’s a trail of spit between his mouth and Zach’s dick and that’s not something he ever thought he’d see. He licks his lips, and closes his eyes for a second.

“Look, dude, you’re the king of mixed signals here.”

Zach tugs at his shoulder. “Just.”

“Fine, fucking. Fine. You try and do a nice thing for someone and--” the second he’s on his feet Zach kisses him again, and he had a whole piece to say about nice guys finishing last but whelp. There goes that opportunity. And Zach keeps talking, pulling back slightly to say things against his mouth in this weirdly soft, weirdly erotic whisper.

“You should just come home with me. We can start over--actually do this.” He shifts his mouth to Thomas’ ear. Nips lightly. “With a bed, and nice things.”

“Nice things?”

“Less grass. Less urine.” Zach kisses him again. Familiar territory, the way he’s somehow so overwhelming despite being very, very slight. It makes Thomas feel almost ill, thinking about how badly he--how badly he wants that.

“Yeah, alright. I could suffer some nice things.”

Zach smiles against his mouth. “Good.”

“Does getting to fuck you count as a nice thing?”

Zach has the audacity to _blush_. “I hope so.”

Thomas restrains himself from getting back on his knees, only this time to fist-pump in celebration. He kind of _is_ an asshole. He’s pretty sure it’s about to get him laid though. And that’s cool.

**Author's Note:**

> unfollow me on [tumblr](http://reserve.tumblr.com).


End file.
